


Apples & Cinnamon

by MagalaBee



Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-War, raphael deserves more love and im gonna give it to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: Since the war had ended, Raphael was beginning to realize something about himself and his feelings towards Ingrid.INGRID RAREPAIR WEEK DAY 5: Food
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Raphael Kirsten, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Raphael Kirsten, ingraph, raphgrid
Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973008
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Apples & Cinnamon

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, Ingrid and Raphael are good actually, and their epilogue for non BL routes really guts me in the best way. He comes to be her knight and helps her figure out new farming techniques for Galatea???
> 
> I'm soft. Please, more people, appreciate the inherent goodness of Raphael.

Ingrid’s lips tasted like apples and cinnamon.

Raphael didn’t know what to do with his hands when she kissed him. His heart was fluttering and his breath hitching and for a moment, he hesitated on what to do. But as she held that forceful, emotional embrace, he found it so much easier to touch her. Wide, warm arms wrapped around her back and his palms pressed against her spine, holding her firmly against him.

She tasted sweet, and the flavor of her lingered even when she pulled away.

“Woah…” Raphael breathed.

“I… uhm…” he could see the color rising in her cheeks.

Saving her the embarrassment of trying to explain whatever this was, Raphael leaned forward and kissed her again. Sweetly. Briefly. He might enjoy the moment, but he didn’t want her to feel pushed too far.

Ingrid was as red as a strawberry when he pulled back. It made Raphael wonder if his face was flushed too. He smiled at her, though. “Heh… Hi.”

Ingrid blinked. “Uhm… h-hi.”

“You feelin’ ok?” he asked.

Ingrid ducked her head and hid her face against his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh against his shirt. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to just…”

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “I mean… I liked it. Was the pie really that good?” He had baked for her today and interrupted what had been almost a whole week of non-stop working to give her something sweet. Ever since Ingrid had taken over as Countess Galatea, she had been almost drowning in paperwork. Her parents had died in the war, and she was still sometimes called a traitor for allying with Claude, but despite all of these set back, she was still giving all she could to her homeland.

Raphael found it admirable. He had looked up to Ingrid’s knightly ways since they were students, but this was different. She’d given up her dreams to help these people.

“It wasn’t the pie,” Ingrid admitted with a muffled voice. “It’s just… I don’t know why you’re still so nice to me. I’m always so snappy and moody and… and this isn’t even your responsibility.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Raphael told her. “You’re working too much, that’s why you’re moody. I don’t take it personally.” Maybe that kind of understanding was a new concept for her. During his time in Faerghus, ever since he’d sword his ax to help Ingrid rebuild Galatea, he had noticed that the culture here was different. People seemed to expect the nobility to always be perfect. Above reproach and above fault. It made him shudder to think about how it must have been growing up here, especially with a crest. 

“Why?” Ingrid asked, her voice sounding as quiet as a church mouse. “I… I don’t get it.”

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why do you keep taking care of me?”

That question brought Raphael pause. He wasn’t sure how to answer, because there were so many reasons. He had become a knight because of her. He had become a knight to Galatea, specifically, after the war. He didn’t want her to overwork herself. He still remembered their friendship born from a mutual love of late night snacking during their schooling days.

And maybe part of him felt a tiny bit guilty, too. Not for anything he had done, but because he understood Ingrid better now. He knew how she had been put into an arranged marriage from her birth. He knew how much pressure her parents had put on her even after her fiancee died. He knew that the only reason she felt so insecure about her life choices was because she was trying to save the common people of this region from starving.

...And Raphael knew that, had he been born in Faerghus rather than Leicester, he and his own family would have been some of those common people shouting for her to just get married already.

Knowing Ingrid now… she deserved better than that. Someone who cared so sincerely about those around her deserved more than to be treated like a piece of property.

“Well, Ingrid… I think it’s because I love you,” he said, rather casually. Raphael knew his cheeks were blushing now, beneath his sun-weary tan. He felt Ingrid stiffen in his arms and her head shot up in complete surprise as she looked at him. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to say that, nonetheless say it as if it weren’t a big deal.

Ingrid was speechless, a rare condition for her. She was usually full of feisty determination or a frustrated attempt at explaining her own reasoning. But she was quiet as she looked at him, her big, green eyes studying the lines of his face, the wide slope of his nose, the smile dimples in his cheeks. Raphael liked being seen like that. He knew he wasn’t the most conventionally handsome man out there, but when Ingrid stared, he felt like he must be.

Rather than saying anything at all, Ingrid stood up on her toes and kissed him again. Slower this time. It wasn’t the same rushed impulse as when he had first interrupted her grueling work day with a slice of pie. She still tasted like apples and cinnamon, but she wasn’t so frantic this time. This kiss was tender, grateful, even needy.

When she pulled away, she whispered, “I think I love you too…”

Raphael smiled. “Damn… I better make you another pie, huh?”


End file.
